On the Edge
by Victine Shadow
Summary: Gold prefers Crys. So? So Silver decides to resort to drastic measures. Luckily, neither his Weavile nor someone else has given up on him. Mastershipping Lance/Silver, minor Mangaquestshipping. Warning: not suitable for young children


Don't know why I'd write this, really. It does bring two of my favourite PokeSpe characters together, so...

I originally intended to write it from Silver's point of view, but I decided to go for Weavile's instead, just to make things interesting. Lance's Dragonite also gets a small say here.

Warning: Dark fic, tragedy, suicide. Obviously not suitable for little kids or anyone who is squeamish

* * *

><p>*Weavile*<p>

"Come on," the raven-haired boy flashed a sly smile at the girl, who began giggling. He led her out the door with his arm around her waist.

The Master watched them go, his back to me. His red hair hid his expression, but I thought I could sense flashes of sorrow, bitterness - maybe even jealousy - sparking off him. It didn't really surprise me. I'd always thought - known - that he'd liked the dark-haired boy, who'd, however, had seemed to have chosen the girl over him.

The door closed with a hollow slam. After a long while, the Master picked himself up and turned around. His gaze was dull, pained, unfocused. It was almost as bad - maybe worse, even - as the days when the Masked Terror was still around.

"Weavile," I said. It hurt me - still does - to see the Master feeling down. I wanted to help, to say something, but I knew I couldn't ever speak the words I desperately wanted to say to the Master.

He began walking down the corridor, slowly, relying heavily on the wall. He stumbled once and I darted forward to catch him, but he righted himself almost immediately. It made my heart twist. In the dim light of the corridor he almost seemed to blend in with the shadows.

"Weavile," I called, and all of a sudden, he whipped round, and looked straight into my eyes with a silver gaze.

"You've got to take good care of yourself," the Master said. A pause. He licked his lips testily and lowered himself so we were now face-to-face. "And not just yourself, please. The other Pokemon as well. Especially Honchkrow. Find yourselves a good trainer, like Blue or Yellow or - or even Lance. You've got take of them, Weavile. You've got to."

I tipped my head to one side. The seriousness weighed heavily on me, yet I didn't understand. The Master would never abandon us, I was sure of that. Yet...

"Please," he begged.

I nodded, despite all things.

He sighed heavily and picked himself up, continuing his journey down the corridor, before abruptly turning into one of the rooms - the bathroom, I think.

"Weavile," I whispered. _Please, Master, let me help you,_ I thought. _Don't do this to yourself_.

* * *

><p>*Dragonite*<p>

Gyarados aimed an Ice Beam at me. Ducked it. He tried a Hyper Beam this time, but still, I managed to dodge. A Dragon Claw finished it off as he slumped to the ground. I hovered a few meters away, waiting. Glanced back at the Master.

He wasn't even looking at us. He seemed fairly distracted. Hadn't he even noticed my spectacular victory?

I shifted a little closer to see his expression. He seemed worried, perhaps even distressed. As if he'd sensed something had disturbed him.

_What's wrong?_ I asked.

"Let's go," he said, leaping onto my back and recalling the other Pokemon. "There's no time to lose."

_Why? _I queried as swooped out of the cave where we trained every day.

"There's - there's someone important who's in pain," he said. Sighed faintly.

_Viridian_. I've already picked up his thoughts on the destination. Or rather, he's given it to me. But a dark cloud is still shrouding his emotions. Makes me wonder why.

It's a piece of cake to get to Viridian City. The Master guides me to the precise place - a small house on the edge of the forest. He leaps off and Dragonair helps him unlock the door. He rushes inside without a second word and even without recalling either of us. The first time I've seen him so desperate in my life

* * *

><p>*Weavile*<p>

I clawed desperately at the bathroom door. The Master didn't respond. Instinct told me something, something had gone terribly wrong. I can't open the lock and the danger increases for every second that passes by.

Suddenly the front door flies open and a tall, lean redhead strides in. I recognised him - he was one of the older trainers the Master was familiar with.

"Is he in there?" he gestured towards the bathroom. I presume he means the Master.

I nodded. The man beckoned a Dragonair forward, who proceeded to smash the door open with a lash of its tail.

Both the man and I darted in. The sight was one that I'd never forget. One that turned my already chilly blood to pure ice.

The Master lay half-curled on the tiled floor, which was gleaming with dark red liquid. One hand tensely gripped a small blade, while blood flowed profusely from both cut wrists. His eyes were wide open, but stared blankly into the distance.

The man dropped to his knees and carefully, gently, as if he was treating the most precious and fragile thing in the world, lifted the Master into his arms. "What did you think you're doing?" he hissed.

The Master glanced briefly at me, then up at the man, a little life returning to his eyes. "Hey," he whispered.

"Not Gold again," the man muttered.

The Master just bit his lip and closed his eyes.

"Just hold on for a while, please," the man said, carrying the Master out of the house and resting him on the Dragonite. I hurried after them, painfully aware of the trail of blood along the ground.

"Hold on for me, Silver," the redhead said, pressing his face to the Master's.

_Help the Master please_, I thought. And I knew he would.


End file.
